003. Why I'm Quitting the Pursuit of Legacy

So you think you want to build a legacy huh? A dynasty? Be a power couple? Have your business live on for generations?

Well let me tell you a little story about dynasty, legacy, and generations. 

A Faithful Executioner & A Fateful Turn of Events

Imagine this. It’s a sultry hot day in the middle of Germany. The year is 1573. You’re an 18 year old and you’ve been practicing your swordsmanship by beheading pumpkins and rhubarb stalks. But your final test awaits you to become a master of your craft. 

You’re in your backyard with your fresh pumpkin kill, as your father opens the gate with a pack of stray dogs behind him. He says, “this is as close as it gets to the real thing. I’ll hold them for you.”

“Okay son. Steady… Steady…” 

Great news, you passed! Hopefully with flying colors, for the dogs’ sake. You are now awarded the title of journeyman executioner, able to carry out executions and corporal punishments across the land. Welcome to your new career. Yay, right?

Meister Franz

Meister Franz or Franz Schmidt lived this exact scene. He became an executioner in the late 1500s, just like his father, Heinrich, in the German state of Bavaria. 

Being an executioner in his day was not how the movies make it out to be; a noble profession carried out by an honorable knight or someone of high rank in the society. There was no honor in being an executioner. 

In fact, it was often viewed as a curse on the family. Members of executioner families were viewed as dirty and dishonorable because of their proximity to death, corpses, criminals, and the violence of executions and punishments. 

This meant that executioners were not allowed a job change, their children were prohibited from apprenticing in other professions, they were not allowed in the homes of other honorable members of society, nor could they attend social gatherings like going to church with the rest of their fellow citizens. In fact, they were not even given citizenship in most instances. 

Their social status was along the likes of those they worked  with: murderers, thieves, and prostitutes. Often they acted similarly, drinking heavily, gambling, and engaging with prostitutes. 

The title and role of executioner was unfairly thrust upon Franz’s father, Heinrich. He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Because his brother in law was an executioner in a neighboring town, he was selected to carry out three executions on the spot. If he refused, he would be next in line to hang. 

And just like that, the entire world of the Franz family turned on its head. Heinrich made it his sole mission in life to unburden his son and future generations from this dishonorable way of life. 

Meister Franz would learn all he could from his father. He learned how to burn victims at the stake, execute them with a large wagon wheel, behead a criminal as they knelt or even stood, drown prisoners in the river without causing a scene, and how to carry out corporal punishments by breaking bones but not going too far; everything you needed to be a top-notch executioner. 

In fact, Meister Franz would become so good at his trade that he would secure the job in the growing and prosperous town of Nuremberg. A job coveted by his father. 

He secured a good pay, free room and board in the Hangman’s House, and was allowed to practice as a healer in the town. If you break enough bones and open enough sores, I guess you become pretty good at fixing them up too. This would later become Miester Franz’s true passion. 

Franz flourished as an executioner, as much as one could. He decided he would do everything in his power to see his father’s vision, now his, of gaining his family’s honor back. He swore off drinking, gambling, and prostitutes. He was the epitome of a model citizen and even gained his citizenship after several years of service, although no one else could be present in the building at the time he gained his citizenship, still a dirty executioner and all. 

Meister Franz would carry out his duties faithfully for over 45 years and only ask for a raise once in his entire career. He swung his sword from the age of 18 until he literally no longer had the strength to. 

He went on to have 7 children with his only wife. And lastly, he was able to carry on as a healer in Nuremberg until his death at the ripe old age of 79. 

Honor & The Pursuit of Legacy

So what happened to his honor and legacy as a result of all this storied career in public service?

Franz kept a journal, chronicling each of his executions and many of his corporal punishments. As he got older he started to expound upon the entries, giving color to the back stories of those he tortured and executed. He was attempting to justify these acts he was forced to carry out. 

Although you have to do a lot of inferring and filling in the gaps to know how Franz truly felt about his 361 executions and 345 punishments, you can see he was building his case to gain his family’s honor back. 

7 years after retirement, Franz submitted a 14-page essay to the chancellor in Germany, pleading to restore honor to his family name. 

It was actually granted. Welcome The Honorable Meister Franz. Well deserved Meister. 

So here we are. 50 plus years since the curse of the executioner title was bestowed upon the family of Miester Franz. Now his legacy was fully intact. His children could set off to accomplish and become anything they dreamed. Or could they..?

Franz’s Legacy

Sadly, Franz’s wife died early in life shortly after childbirth, as was common in those days. Following this all but 2 of Franz’s children and grandchildren died during his lifetime. He buried each and every one of them. 

Most of his children still could not find work, although their honor had been legally restored. They were still shunned by those in the community. Only one of Franz’s sons was able to carry out his work as a healer in the town of Nuremberg, competing with Franz’s executioner successor, before he too was wiped out by a string of plagues that ravished the town. He was a lifelong bachelor with no children of his own. 

In the end, each of Franz’s children perished, with no surviving children of their own. Meister Franz’s bloodline had met its end, nearly at the same time of his own passing. 

So was all the toil, effort and anxiety to restore the family name worth it in the end? Afterall, there is no family left to benefit from this new honorable way in life. 

Legacy is a weird thing

Legacy is a weird thing. It’s something we all long for - to leave a dent in this world. To leave something behind that says hey, I was here; I did that. 

I would argue it’s a vain pursuit from the start for a few reasons. 

We won’t be here to see it. 

The main fallacy with legacy is, we won’t be here to bask in the glory of our legacy. We’ll be 6 feet under and unable to hear or see all the wonderful things they’re still saying and writing about us (if it is wonderful things to begin with). 

It’s the phenomenon of the high school hero, walking the halls of the school years after graduation to ensure his trophies are still in the case, his name still in the record book. 

The reality of it is, those trophies are just collecting dust and the kids in the school and the community at large have forgotten about those records. On top of that, they just don’t care. They’re on to this season, and next season, and chasing their own goals. 

Speaking from my experience, when I run into folks from my hometown, they don’t care that we won the 2008 state championship. They don’t care that I have a huge wooden wildcat head with my name on it in the trophy case for a senior prank I spearheaded. They remember our connection, the way we felt around each other, a longing for simpler times mixed with a sense of nostalgia. 

And talking about our feats on the ball field serves no one but ourselves. No one else cares, no one else remembers. 

Two generations from now, we’ll all be forgotten. 

Think of your own situation. Do you remember your parents' parents? If your grandparents have passed, how often do you think of them? 

Kings and queens, titans of industry, hall of fame athletes will all go on to live in our memories and have books written about them for ages to come. 

But me and you aren’t Elon Musk. We’re not Queen Elizabeth. We’re not Winston Churchill. 

Sadly, given enough time, those names too will also be lost to history forgotten. 

You’re gonna die.

Everyone will move on.

Do what you want.

They don’t want our dreams. They want their own. 

I recently spoke with a mortgage broker who has been running an award winning company for over 20 years, making $200,000 - $300,000 in take home pay per year. He has three grown, adult children. Guess what, none of them want to take over the company. 

One is a teacher, one is an engineer, and one’s in grad school with other plans. 

Just as we each want to make a dent in the world in our own way, our kids don’t want to inherit our dent. They want to make their own. 

As a land investor I see this first hand daily. There is a family farm or ranch that has been in the family for generations, but no heirs want to move to Po-Dunk Oklahoma and continue the legacy. They live in other corners of the world, chasing their own dreams, making their own dent.

We make plans and God laughs. 

The story of Meister Franz almost reads as a Shakespearean tragedy. Two generations worth of strife, longing, watching every more, just to get back into the good graces of society; to restore the family name for generations to come. The universe had other plans. 

No matter how much we try to bend fate to our will, there’s too much outside of our control to fight. Whatever the universe wills, will come to pass, despite our best efforts. 

A Frame of Reference

What then are we to do with this nagging ache to leave behind a legacy? Is it all for naught? 

I like to think of legacy as a frame in which to view the world. 

Take for example Meister Franz, the executioner. Everything he did was for future Schmidt generations. That did not come to pass, however, it gave him a wonderful way to view his world and his part in it. 

His role was to bring honor back to his family, to provide for them not only today, but well into the future. He served his community well, not just as the tip of the judicial spear, but doctoring over 15,000 patients in his time, his true legacy. 

So much so, that his tombstone makes no mention of his 45-year long profession, but only “healer.”

He controlled exactly what he could control, and left the rest up to God. 

I believe that’s the only way to go about it. 

It’s good and right to work to build a legacy for future generations. Leave this world better than we found it. 

However, we can’t be so foolish to think that in another 80 years anyone will be talking about us. 

Most of what we build today will not stand the test of time. 

If we zoom out far enough, the sun will eventually come crashing into earth and this world will be no more. 

As sad as that sounds, it’s meant to be freeing. 

In conclusion

The pursuit of legacy is a dichotomy, but two things can be true at once. 

It’s a worthwhile pursuit because it provides a valuable way of operating in the world. However, in the end, it’s just a fateful fallacy to think our legacy will live much beyond our own lives and we’ll all be forgotten.

You’re gonna die.

Everyone will move on.

Do what you want.

--> Read all of Meister Franz's story in The Faithful Executioner by Joel F. Harrington.